I knew I shouldn’t be entering his room. I knew I shouldn’t be going to his room to give him a back rub. Not after yesterday. When he left me shaking at work all day. Openly admitting he hated me and wanted me out of the house immediately. Threatening to file n7 forms because I was “out of control” for sending him messages of apology because he has trained me to be this pathetic.
I knew I should not be going to his room. But he asked me and he’s not punishing me today and maybe I can be good. Maybe I can please him. Maybe I won’t be scared anymore if I can just make him happy . Do what he wants.
I touched his body and rubbed the knots I could easily find. Every touch I gave him felt like a peaceful stroke. As if this act of service was healing me and making me worth something again. He was accepting my touch and my service. He’s not ignoring me or hurting me. This feels good. He begins to touch my legs, my body; as if he likes me. As if yesterday was a bad dream. Was he lashing out ? No. No. He meant every word you stupid girl. He hates you he wants you out he is done with you like spoiled fruit. He does not care . He does not want you. He moves his hand up higher and begins to massage my clit gently. I try to push him arm down through the massage as if it was an accident . I know rejecting his touch is an unacceptable thing to do. I say “relax just enjoy” and I continue to massage for a quick moment. I feel his body tense and his hand comes back to my center and he says with annoyance and in an end of discussion tone -“stop”. I knew what he meant instantly . Do not stop massaging him. Do not stop touching. Stop fighting him. He wants to touch you and he will touch you. You mean nothing and he will touch you anyway. Stop. I stop fighting.
He turns over and lays on his back and stares blankly at my face. I get nervous and look down and start my planned move to leave the bed about to step silently away into the night- to my room, where I will continue to think about him. Before I can execute this pathetic plan of mine he grabs my wrist and pulls me on his body so I’m sitting on top of him.
He grabs the hair by my neck and pulls my face down a bit just enough to hurt.
“You know I hate you sometimes” he said in a voice that made it sound romantic.
“I know” I say weakly. Fuck who am I? I have nothing left inside me to say anything else. Or feel anything else. I know you do . I know you hate me. How can I change it? Just stop logic states -stop thinking like a moron. It doesn’t win the train of thought though. How do I become un-hateable in his eyes. How do I do it. As my mind realizes how pathetic I am, he abruptly moves my shorts and thong to one side and I can feel him.
How can someone who truly despises me make me feel so much emotion? I have dated boyfriends who were kind and attentive and caring and I never felt what I feel now. Like a light doll. Content to please and follow direction. Tell me what to do. And I’ll do it. I feared how far my mind would take that thought as he entered me in one push . He made a sound of approval at my wetness. He instructed me to lift forward closer to him . He bit down on my right breast on the skin so hard I wanted to cry but I knew that would make him angry so I took the pain in strides. He never seemed to get enough of the pain.
I look back at the night now today after being ignored all day. Did I dream it? Did he invite me into his room, fuck me, and use me ? Did it even happen? The marks on my body say it did.
